


Nothing Left But Ashes of Doubt

by firefly171



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, Apocalypse, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:15:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefly171/pseuds/firefly171
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dean says yes to Michael, Sam and Castiel go in search of him, but following his path of destruction only leads to tragedy. Alone and trapped between Heaven and Hell, Sam is forced to finally make a choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the spn_reversebang 2010 over on Livejournal. Originally posted on 11/4/10

The sound of the locks as they gave way to the intruders didn’t even make him flinch, nor was it enough to make him move his gaze from its spot on the floor. He did tighten his grip on the gun though as he heard the voices float up from the lower floors, feeling the amulet in his hand sway with the disturbance.

The feeling of the blood on his hands wasn’t even a distraction anymore. The night before already felt like an eternity away.

A breeze blew through the broken window beside him; warmed by the burning city, it offered him little comfort. He bit back a bitter laugh at the irony of the last several weeks’ events had given him.

He finally looked up as the demons opened the door across the room from him. He knew they were demons not only because he could still almost recognize them by their smell, but because if they had been angels, the need to enter through doors would have been unnecessary.

The chair he’d been sitting in for hours protested loudly when he stood up to greet, or kill as was most likely the case, the four that walked into the room. They were lead by a short dark haired woman. She didn’t even need to speak for him to be able to recognize her.

He pulled Ruby’s old knife from his jacket and gripped it in the same hand with the amulet. “Meg.”

She smiled at him. “Well hey ya, Sammy.”

The other three spread out to the rest of the room, blocking him from any kind of escape; although, if he really wanted to, he still had the option of braving the three story drop from the window that was now behind him. He eyed them warily, suddenly wishing the gun was the Colt rather than his old Taurus pistol.

“What took you so long?” he asked, forcing his focus back onto her.

“Aw, Sam,” she pouted. “Did you really miss me that much?”

He responded simply by holding up the knife, feeling the hair on the back of his neck rise as he sensed the other demons in the room closing in on him.

“Come now, Sammy. There’s no need to make this harder than it has to be.” She took several steps closer but Sam held his ground.

He was fucked no matter how he looked at it and he’d be damned if he was going to give them any kind of pleasure by showing them fear. Of course by this point, Sam was too damn tired, angry and possibly even stupid to feel very afraid of anything anymore.

“The only way Lucifer is going to get me is if he has to piece me back together himself,” Sam said defiantly.

“Oh don’t worry pumpkin,” Meg laughed. “That most certainly can be arranged.

This fight was already lost and Sam knew it. He was now utterly alone and there was no way that anybody was going to be walking through that door to lend him any kind of back up this time.

He slipped his gun behind him into the waistline of his jeans and stood ready for them, daring them to attack him. The least he was going to do was take down as many of them as he could before they killed him, and he was going to start with the bitch that was standing in front of him.

He attacked first; blindly throwing himself at Meg in a rage he could no longer control. He swung the knife at her; which she dodged easily, grabbing his arm and planting a well placed kick into his ribcage, sending him flying backwards where he crash landed back into the chair. The knife was wrenched from his hand and clattered away in a direction he couldn’t see as he lay there in a heap of pain.

He was roughly grabbed and pulled to his feet by two of the demons only so that the third one could punch him repeatedly in the face. He tasted blood as the demon pulled back for another blow, but Sam was able to duck out of the way and slip his leg around the ankle of one of the ones holding him, causing them to go down, giving him a chance to twist out of the second ones grip.

When he was able to right himself, he was only allowed a fraction of a second to try and find the knife before Meg was on him, throwing punches which he was only barely able to dodge. One of the other demons managed to grab him from behind, pinning his arms to his side despite the size difference between the two of them.

Sam bellowed angrily and attempted to kick out at Meg, but she just stood out of his reach, laughing at him. Mocking him.

“I don’t know why you’re fighting so hard, Sam,” she said. “Just take a look outside. You’ve lost.”

Sam struggled against the demon’s hold on him. “So have you.”

Meg shook her head. “No, we haven’t Sammy. Not yet.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” said that oh so familiar voice.

Suddenly the demon holding Sam was crying in pain and the room filled with a bright light and he quickly crumpled to the floor.

Sam turned to see the other’s eyes and mouths fill with that same light before they burst into flames. On the other side of them stood Dean.

Meg turned, intending to run Sam guessed, though why she thought that would work was anyone’s guess. Before she could really move, Dean was blocking her escape.

He didn’t give her time to abandon her host. Placing two fingers to her forehead, he rendered her unconscious where she fell and landed in a heap on the floor – still alive.

He didn’t even bother gracing her further with his attention before he turned to Sam.

“Hello, Sam,” he said.

The smug and triumphant look on his face twisted Sam’s stomach in a sickening way. It also fueled the bitter anger within him even more.

Sam didn’t even blink as he reached behind him to grab his gun. Bringing it around he aimed it directly at what used to be his brother.

“Hello, Michael.”


	2. Part two

“ _He approached a street preacher. I didn’t make it in time.”_

The night air was cold; colder than what Sam thought was normal for that time of year. It clung to him like a second skin. Sam couldn’t find it in him though to care much about the temperature – not with those words replaying themselves over and over again in his head.

Castiel had appeared out of nowhere, scattering notes, maps and loose book pages in his haste. Sam had known immediately that the angel had not come bearing good news.

“Sam?” the aforementioned angel called from near the house. It was a request for permission to join him rather than an inquiry to his whereabouts.

Sam raised his nearly empty beer bottle and called back to him. “Over here.”

Castiel walked around the Impala where Sam was perched up on the hood, drinking a beer and staring out over the heaps of broken down cars that filled Bobby’s junk yard.

Sam took the last sip from his beer and handed the empty bottle to Castiel. “Grab me another one would you.” He nodded in the direction of the right tire to indicate where he had left the cooler.

Without a word Castiel took it and rounded the rest of the car to do as he was asked. Sam smiled, though to him it felt almost bitter. He wasn’t sure if he was angry at the angel. Logic told him that it wasn’t Castiel’s fault. 

“Make sure you grab one for yourself too,” Sam said as soon as he saw Castiel disappear over the edge of the car. 

When he stood back up he was holding two bottles. He handed one to Sam. “Thanks for the offer, but I wasn’t really going to ask.”

Sam laughed. “Well your welcome then.”

Castiel opened his beer and took a sip. There was a small trace of a smile. “Thank you, Sam.”

Sam tried not to feel like he was in the Twilight Zone as he watched the former Angel of the Lord take another swig from the beer. It shouldn’t have been that strange, he thought. He had seen Castiel drunk before after all.

“I am sorry,” Castiel said suddenly. He didn’t look at Sam; he kept his gaze level on the horizon of Bobby’s junk yard.

“It’s not your fault,” Sam said, finally opening his own beer.

“No?” Castiel looked at him doubtfully.

“No,” Sam said simply, taking a sip of his beer.

They stayed silent like that for several minutes. Sam took to stargazing, taking comfort in one of the old activities he and Dean were able to enjoy together. Castiel suddenly seemed very interested in the label of the beer bottle he was holding. Sam wondered briefly how his angel companion viewed things like the stars. Maybe they reminded him of Heaven somehow. Maybe that was why he never caught Castiel looking up at them.

It didn’t take very long for his thoughts to wander from Castiel to Dean. “What do you think Michael is doing right now?”

Castiel didn’t answer him right away. In fact, Sam didn’t think he was going to answer at all. Finally he said, “Searching for Lucifer.”

Sam nodded. That was of course the obvious answer. “Any luck that he’ll find him quickly?” 

Castiel didn’t even blink. “No.”

“So, how long do you think we have before he starts burning whole cities down looking for him?” As somber as it was, Sam didn’t intend for it to be a serious question.

Castiel gave him a serious answer anyway. “He has probably already started.”

Sam wondered what it said about him that he wasn’t even shocked by such news.

“What are you going to do now?” Castiel asked him.

Sam knew the answer without even having to think about it. “I’m going to find Michael.”

Castiel looked at him curiously. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Sam shrugged. “But I have to find him.”

“There isn’t anything you’ll be able to do for him Sam,” Castiel said sadly and Sam didn’t need to ask to know that he was talking about Dean.

“I have to at least try.” His determination surprised even himself. “I have to try something. I don’t know what. Maybe try to get Dean back or stop Michael from burning the planet. Just anything but sit here and wait for it all to end.”

“As long as Michael wins nothing will end Sam,” Castiel said.

Sam couldn’t hold back the bitter laughter. “Are you fucking serious, Cas? After everything you did to help us, you’re jumping back over to that way of thinking?”

Castiel’s tone was firm. “No, I’m not, but what I say isn’t a lie. If Michael kills the Devil, nothing will end for you, or any other human on this Earth. All of you will have Paradise.”

“And you, Cas?” Sam asked. The words came to him before he really had time to think about them, but he knew that it did matter to him. What would happen to Castiel if Michael won? He was sure he already knew the answer.

Sam’s question had taken Castiel by surprise though. He looked at Sam with an expression that the hunter couldn’t quite place before he looked away. “I’m sure the only thing waiting for me is an execution.”

Sam nodded. That was what he thought. In which case, it answered the rest of Castiel’s earlier question. 

_ What are you going to do? _

“Well if that’s the case then I guess we’d better find a way to stop all of this.” He finished his beer and slid off the hood of the Impala. 

Castiel looked at him in surprise, and something else. 

Sam clapped him on the shoulder and offered him a smile of reassurance before continuing on to the front door of the house, intending to grab as many hours of sleep as he could. He had a purpose now and he was determined to see it done. 

Sleep didn’t come easily for him that night. He tossed and turned on Bobby’s couch for several hours before he felt the presence of Castiel enter the living room, presumably to watch over him. After that he was finally able to slowly drift off to sleep.

 

 

 

Castiel wasn’t lying when he said that Michael had probably already started plowing through cities looking for Lucifer. The next morning, after Sam had stolen only a couple hours of sleep, he was woken up by Adam who had turned on the news.

Michael had started out with Atlanta, Georgia. 

Sam quickly realized while watching the images of the burning city that Michael wasn’t going to be at all subtle in his search. When the reporter approached yet another person who started describing the rainstorm of fire, Sam had to get up and leave the room.

He instead set himself to getting prepared to leave. He first conferred with Castiel, who firmly insisted that he go with Sam. Sam of course couldn’t refuse the angel and soon they had decided that their search would go faster if Sam allowed Castiel to fly them where they needed to go. That of course meant the Impala had to stay with Bobby.

It was while he was outside, rummaging through the Impala’s trunk trying to shove as much fire power as he could into one large duffel bag, that Bobby finally approached him.

“You sure you want to be doing this?” he asked, wheeling himself over the gravel of the driveway.

Sam continued packing shotgun shells into the bag. “I can’t just sit here Bobby.”

“But what are you expecting to accomplish running off like this? If anything you should be staying put so that the Devil don’t find you.”

Sam decided to ignore Bobby’s good logic. Finishing with the trunk he slung the bag over his shoulder as he slammed it shut. 

He turned to Bobby and handed him the keys. “Take care of her for me would you, Bobby.”

Bobby looked ready to argue, almost as if he thought Sam would change his mind if he refused. Letting out a sigh of defeat he took them. “You know I will.”

“And you and Adam will keep us up to date on all the demonic omens that pop up?” Sam knew Bobby would, even if it went against everything in him to help quicken Sam’s march to what he thought was his death.

“Yeah,” Bobby sighed. “I will.”

He held out his hand which Sam grabbed whole heartedly and pulled him down so that he could embrace him, awkwardly due to Sam’s height.

“Just don’t expect that boy to survive for very long in my care,” Bobby said, letting Sam go.

Sam laughed. “Just remember whose son he is.”

“Oh believe me. There’s no way I’m going to forget,” Bobby said. “He’s more like your dad than either of you two are half the time.” 

“I seriously hope you just mean his stubbornness,” Sam said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He still couldn’t believe how cold it was.

“You can take it however you want to,” Bobby said.

The two of them turned when they heard footsteps approaching. 

Castiel was there, waiting silently.

“Well I guess it’s time for us to go,” Sam sighed, walking past Bobby and away from the Impala.

“Yeah I guess,” Bobby said indigently, turning his wheelchair to follow Sam. He looked at Castiel. “You better take good care of him you hear me.”

“Bobby really?” Sam shot him an exasperated look.

“I’m sure Sam can take care of himself,” Castiel said, looking at the hunter in question. “But I’ll make certain that I’m there to back him up.”

Sam wasn’t sure why, but hearing Castiel say that left him feeling a little bit better. He may have lost Dean, but at least he wasn’t alone.

After that Castiel and he were gone. Their first stop was a smallish town outside of Atlanta so that they could try to assess what they could from the aftermath. They couldn’t assess very much.

As far as they could tell, nobody had seen Michael or Lucifer or anybody matching Nick or Dean’s descriptions. 

Castiel woke Sam up the next morning with another news report, from another city, in another state. Everything matched that of Atlanta so they packed up and headed out, only to do it all over again.

That’s how life went for them for several weeks. Bobby, whom he talked to every day, was up to his eyeballs in demonic omens scattered all over the map. It was getting harder and harder to decipher which ones meant much of anything, and which ones were just general demonic block parties. 

Sam and Castiel did what they could to follow them, thinking that maybe they could catch up to Michael if they caught up to Lucifer first. Both Bobby and Castiel were very careful about voicing their opinions on what they could only believe was a reckless way to go about doing things. 

Still, Castiel followed him.

It didn’t take long for Sam to grow comfortable with the angel’s presence. Sam would never admit it out loud but he was never very good at being alone.

What surprised him though, was how easy it was to be comfortable with Castiel. He always remembered being on edge when Castiel was around. He now realized that it was never Castiel, but Dean.

Dean had lost faith in Sam, and Sam knew this. He knew Dean had tried his best, put on his best face and acted like nothing had changed but Sam could always see the strain. That’s why Sam had tried so much harder. It never seemed to be enough. 

Castiel had been the one to call Sam an abomination, but it was Dean who had been the one who truly believed it. 

It was easier with Castiel. Castiel didn’t have any old memories of Sam; memories that Sam was expected to live up to. When he was with Castiel, he didn’t have to worry about being somebody he couldn’t be anymore. After months of trying to do just that, he couldn’t help but feel even just a little bit liberated.

Part of Sam wanted to thank Castiel for this new feeling of freedom. The other, probably smarter, part of him kept quiet for fear that the angel would chide him for disregarding Dean in such a way, and accuse Sam of dragging him all over for nothing. 

It was as he and Castiel were walking to one of their many motel rooms when Sam realized that his search for Michael had become more about saving Castiel from whatever fate awaited him, than it was about getting Dean back. The realization hit him so hard it caused him to pause mid-stride.

This in turn caused Castiel to stop and turn so that he was looking at him. “Are you alright, Sam?”

Sam wasn’t entirely sure if he was anymore.

 

 

 

“We’re probably going to have to stop at Bobby’s soon,” Sam said. 

They were nearing the end of their first month. Sam had what few weapons he’d taken lined up on the motel table while he worked on cleaning them. Castiel stood near the window where he alternated between watching Sam and glancing between the curtains. Sam thought that he looked a bit moody.

Sam glanced up at the angel when he didn’t offer any sort of response and then went back to work on his shot gun. “I guess I should count myself lucky that what I brought has lasted this long though.”

“That’s because such weapons have a tendency to be proven useless against what we’re hunting,” Castiel said. 

Castiel’s tone caused Sam to stop what he was doing and look up. The last time he’d heard the angel sound like that was in another motel room not much different from this one – only then Dean had been present. “Something you want to talk about?”

“Not really, no.” Castiel kept his gaze on the window and Sam noticed the angel fiddling with something in his pocket.

“Cas,” Sam started cautiously. “You don’t have to keep following me if you don’t want to.”

That grabbed the angel’s attention. “I never said that.”

“No, you haven’t said anything,” Sam said, putting the gun back down onto the table. “What I’m doing is stupid and probably pointless. I’d understand if you were ready to give up.”

“I’m not ready to give up,” Castiel said, and Sam could hear the strain in the angel’s voice.

“Really, Cas?” Sam asked. “Because the last time I heard you sound like this was when me and Dean told you….” He stopped himself. It had been a while since he’d thought about his and Dean’s time in Heaven, and remembering the things that happened and what they had learned only frustrated him.

“My Father was supposed to love humans more than anything,” Castiel said. “I still can’t understand how he can just do nothing while so many are dying unnecessarily.”

“Well maybe since we’re supposedly getting Paradise after all of this, he just isn’t worried about it,” Sam offered bitterly. 

“I’ve been trying to think of ways to reverse what’s happened,” Castiel said.

“And what have you come up with?” Sam asked.

Castiel looked at him, pained by what his thoughts had forced him to accept. “That unless God changes his mind and offers us help, we have no hope of stopping anything.”

“Maybe there’s some way we can change his mind then,” Sam said, even after he’d decided that that was impossible. 

“We’d have to find him,” Castiel said as he sat down in the chair across the table from Sam.

“Yeah and since Dean tossed the amulet, there’s little chance of anyone ever finding him,” Sam said, looking down at his guns. He no longer had any ambition to continue with them. “I shouldn’t have left it.’

Castiel looked at him questioningly. “Why did you leave it, Sam?”

Sam thought back to that day in that hotel room. He had fished it out of the trash can after Dean had walked out of the room, but all he could do was just stand there and stare at it before he too dropped it back into the garbage and followed Dean out the door. 

To him it had always been a symbol of his and Dean’s trust in each other. When had been the last time Dean had actually trusted him, even after he’d tried so hard to gain that trust back – only to be repaid by his brother giving in to Heaven and Michael?

“Because I realized that you were right,” Sam said, feeling his throat nearly close up at the memory. “It was useless.”

Castiel looked at him sadly, but said nothing. 

The next day was when everything started to fall apart.   



	3. Part Three

The day started in the usual way. Sam, who had fallen asleep with his guns still layed out on the table, was woken up by Castiel. He showered while the angel popped out to procure him breakfast and when he was finished with that he turned on the tv to see where Michael had been the night before.

He was met with nothing; only follow ups from days before. 

“Has he given up?” Sam asked; dumbfounded but not really believing anything that his hopeful mind would come up with to explain away the absence of Michael’s handy work from the news.

“Or he has finally decided to change his tactics,” Castiel said more practically.

Sam reached for his phone, hoping that Bobby would have some sort of clues from the demon end of this puzzle. The phone rang until the sound of Bobby’s voice picked up from the voice mail. Sam felt his stomach twist as he hung up and dialed again. Again he was met with nothing.

They wasted no time. Sam quickly threw all of the weapons he’d had on the table back into the bag, even the one that was still sitting in pieces. Sam barely had the bag slung over his shoulder when Castiel grabbed him and in seconds they were standing in the middle of Bobby’s study. 

The two of them could only stare at the chaotic state of the house. Sam’s eyes fell to one item in particular and he quickly crossed the room, dropping the bag as he did so, so that he could pick up the over turned wheelchair. It was undamaged and devoid of any blood, but that only left Sam feeling the tiniest bit of comfort. 

Castiel had made his way to the opposite end where the room connected to the kitchen via a sliding door that was currently open. He looked at the door closely before he pulled it shut, revealing a very familiar enochian sigil.

Sam joined him, both looking at the blood. Sam started feeling sick to his stomach.

“Angels,” Castiel said, immediately scanning the rest of the room more cautiously. Sam knew that he was trying to sense if any of his brothers were there watching them.

“I don’t get it.” Sam tried shaking the initial shock from him mind. “What would angels want with Bobby and Adam now?”

Castiel opened the door, concealing the sigil once again. He didn’t offer Sam an answer. He had no idea what his brothers were thinking. 

Sam did get his answer though.

He had taken to rummaging through the papers on and around the general vicinity of Bobby’s desk, hoping to find some sort of clue as to what had happened, where the older hunter and Adam had gone, or what they might have found out. He’d come across the keys to the Impala inside one of the draws and grimly put them in his pocket. He briefly hoped that nothing had happened to it during, well whatever it was that had happened there. 

Castiel had wandered off to another part of the house, looking for anything that might be of help, so when Sam heard the footsteps he thought that it was the angel returning. When he turned to ask if he’d had any luck though, he was instead greeted by a completely different angel than who he had expected.

“Do you realize that you are an incredibly hard person to find?” Zachariah was leaning against the fireplace mantel, looking at a random book he had picked up off the floor.

“I do actually,” Sam said, making a quick scan of the room to make sure that they were the only two in there. 

“Yes, well here you are now,” Zachariah said, throwing the book to the side. “It’s time to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Zachariah shook his head. “Sam, Sam, Sam. I wasn’t really saying that as a suggestion.” 

“What did you do with Bobby and Adam?” Sam asked. He started to inch his way over to the kitchen door where the sigil was still hidden.

“They’re safe,” the angel said. “We’re only fulfilling the contract.”

“What contract?” Sam asked stopping as Zachariah took a couple steps towards him.

“The contract we had with your brother, of course,” Zachariah smiled. “Dean had a few conditions for us before he would give his consent. It wasn’t much more than a list of people he wanted to keep safe.”

“It took you almost a month to come and make sure that all of us were _safe_?” Sam asked.

“Well we always knew that Adam and Robert Singer were okay,” Zachariah said. “We knew where to find them. You on the other hand ran off for whatever noble quest you thought you were on so we came by and retrieved these two. Figured that would get your attention.”

“Okay well, you’ve got it.” Sam wondered if there was any way that he would be able to convince Castiel to get out of there without actually talking to him. He figured that even if that were possible, Castiel would ignore him anyway.

Something that Zachariah had said though finally clicked in his mind. “Wait, you said that Dean made out a list of people he wanted you to keep safe?”

Zachariah nodded. “Yes, he did. You of course obviously made it.”

“And Cas?” There wasn’t any way that Dean would ask the angels to save a select few and Castiel not be one of them.

“He did,” Zachariah said slowly. “But unfortunately we couldn’t accept the terms of that agreement.”

The small flicker of hope that had started to build in Sam’s chest shattered. “What do you mean you couldn’t accept it?”

“Hey I’m not the one that makes those calls,” he shrugged. “But Castiel rebelled. You really didn’t think that we would just welcome him home with open arms did you?”

Sam felt his body burn with rage. “Then I’m not going with you.”

The angel in front of him laughed. “But, don’t you see the beauty of it? You don’t get a choice in the matter.”

“So you lied to Dean.” Sam was more surprised that Dean actually believed anything this angel had told him.

“Did I?” Zachariah asked, feigning confusion.

“You told him that you would…”

“No, we told Dean that Castiel would be the deal breaker,” Zachariah cut him off with a smirk.

Any retort Sam could have come up with was silenced with those words. He stared at Zachariah, disbelieving but the angel’s face only held the truth from what Sam could tell. He clenched his jaw and had to force himself to stand in that one spot, otherwise he knew he was going to do something stupid like launch himself at this pompous asshole. 

Sam knew there was no way he could be telling the truth. He knew there was no way that Dean would agree to anything that would render Castiel’s life worthless.

“You’re lying.” His voice still shook with both anger and uncertainty.

“Am I?” Zachariah took a step forward.

“You have to be.” Sam was getting ready to make a run for the door with the sigil, but before he could Zachariah quickly lifted his hand, and without even moving or touching Sam, sent the hunter flying across the room and pinned him against the wall. 

“You know I’m not.” Zachariah said, walking towards him. “Now, you might as well just make this easy because you can’t possibly beat me.”

“I can give it my best shot.” 

Zachariah turned and Castiel was there. He almost didn’t move quickly enough before Castiel’s sword was sliding through the air, just missing contact with his neck. That didn’t stop him from laughing. “And here he is! Tell me Castiel, how if this whole, almost human thing treating you?”

Sam struggled futilely against the invisible bonds holding him to the wall. He had to get down somehow. He had to help Castiel.

Castiel stepped forward and swung his sword again but Zachariah deftly dodged it bringing his hand up to connect with Castiel’s chest, sending him flying. 

Castiel crashed into one of the many bookshelves that lined Bobby’s study, bringing it and all of its contents down on top of him. He tossed it off of him easily though and was back up; his lip and nose now bloody but otherwise seemingly uninjured – and unarmed. He looked to the side were his sword had landed maybe only two feet from him. He quickly reached for it only for his hands to come into contact with the bare hardwood.

Zachariah held the weapon up for Castiel to see. “Looking for this?” 

Sam's ears filled with his own wordless screams of rage as Castiel, just for the briefest of moments, looked at him before he once again threw himself at Zachariah. 

Castiel managed to grab the hand holding his sword as his other one went for Zachariah’s face, distracting the other angel long enough to lose his hold on Sam.

Sam fell to the floor and it was anything but lightly. He recovered quickly from his daze only to see Zachariah free the hand that was holding Castiel’s sword. He tried to stand up, tried to push himself forward to stop him, but he was only human, and he couldn’t move fast enough.

Zachariah drove the blade straight through Castiel’s chest.

Sam regained his feet just as the first burst of light began taking over Castiel’s body. It took everything he had to tear his gaze away before the room filled up with that blinding white light. He crossed the rest of the room, slid the kitchen door shut and turned so he could catch one last glimpse of Zachariah’s face as he turned from the dying angel. Sam only wished he could have taken some kind of pleasure from his shocked expression as Sam slapped his hand on the sigil to activate it.

It was a little while before Sam could bring himself to uncurl from his spot on the floor. He laid there even after the fire behind his eyelids died down only to be replaced with a different kind of burning. It was the knowledge that at any moment Zachariah could come back that finally got him up off the floor. 

Castiel’s body was lying in the center of the room. Books, lamps, shelves and even Bobby’s heavy desk were strewn all over the room. It literally looked like a small nuke had gone off inside the house. Spread out on either side of Castiel was the dark impressions of what were once his wings, scorched into the floorboards. 

Sam practically fell to his knees by the angel’s side. Tears streamed down his face and the only thing he could do for several moments was stare at the lifeless form before him. Pain coursed through his body, a pain he hadn’t felt in years.

He clenched his fists in Castiel’s jacket, pulling the angel up into an embrace. Sam wanted nothing more than to sit there like that until the world came crashing down around him, but a small nagging voice told him that he had to move. He had to go.

Only, he had no idea where he was supposed to go.

Castiel had been his reason to keep going, more than finding Michael and more than saving Dean. Now Castiel was gone.

And Dean had known this would happen. He’d known it when he had given his consent to Michael.

Sam placed Castiel back down. His hands when he pulled them away were covered in the angel’s blood. He stared at them only for a moment before he stood up and went in search of a sheet or blanket to wrap Castiel’s body in. He wasn’t leaving him here for demons or the other angels to do who-knows-what to him.

As he was moving the angel onto the cotton sheet he had laid out on the floor, Sam caught sight of something hanging out of the trench coat pocket. He pulled it free and found himself holding Dean’s amulet.

He stared at it, dumbfounded. Why did Castiel have it? When had he gone back to retrieve it? He remembered seeing Castiel rummaging in his pocket the night before. Had he been thinking about restarting his search for God?

Sam didn’t have time to sit there and contemplate what the angel’s intentions had been. Numbly he slipped the amulet into his own pocket and finished wrapping Castiel.

He was glad to find the Impala untouched. Resting Castiel on the ground next to it, Sam fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the doors. He checked every inch of it, every nook and cranny, not wanting any surprises while he took Castiel’s body to, well, to wherever he was going to take it.

He opened the trunk and saw his father’s old ax was still in there. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he decided that he was going to give the angel a hunter’s funeral.

The thought of somehow bringing the angel back to life had crossed his mind briefly, but he pushed it away. It was no longer worth it. Their fight was lost. Freewill just wasn’t strong enough against the forces of Heaven and Hell.

Sam heaved Castiel back up, and eased him onto the back seat of the Impala. He shut the door, climbed into the driver’s seat and was off.

He didn’t know where he was going; was barely even paying attention to the road. His gaze kept wandering up to look at Castiel’s still form lying across the back seat in the rear-view mirror. His attention was brought back to the road though, by several police cars speeding past him, heading back the way he had come.

He figured they were going to check out Bobby’s; Sam couldn’t imagine that Castiel’s death _hadn’t_ been noticed by the entire town. He also figured he’d have to thank the sheriff for taking her time in sending someone there. After everything that had happened with Death raising the dead a few months ago, she was more than aware of what Bobby did and probably didn’t want to send her people into it. He wondered if he should call her and warn her about the angels that were probably going to show up.

He decided not to bother.

The sun had passed its zenith when Sam finally stopped at the end of a dirt road. The amount of overgrowth showed that hardly anybody came down this way and so he figured it was as good a spot as any. He got the ax out of the trunk and set to work gathering and chopping the wood to build a pyre.

It was something that would take Dean and him a couple hours to do when they were working together. Building one himself proved to be far more time consuming. Sam was glad to have something to do though. As long as he didn’t think about what he was building it for, it gave him something else to focus on.

His hands were bloody and blistered and the sun was just starting to set by the time he finished. He looked at the way his blood mixed with Castiel’s still on his hands; the site of it nearly making him throw up.

He pulled Castiel’s body out of the Impala and carefully laid him on the funeral pyre as carefully as he could. He looked up at the sky, knowing that he should wait until the sun had fully set before he set the pyre ablaze.

He looked back down at his friend. The pain inside of him was almost unbearable now yet the only thing he could compare it to, wasn’t when he had lost Dean to the Hell Hounds like he would have expected it to. No, the only thing Sam thought he could compare this pain to, was the pain he felt when he had lost Jessica.

The implications of such a thought hit him square in the chest, and for a second he couldn’t breathe. The tears came faster and hotter now as he lowered himself to his knees again. His entire body wracked with sobs as he doubled over from the pain.

“What am I supposed to do without you?” he asked the lifeless form in front of him. “I don’t even know if I want to save Dean anymore.”

He pulled the amulet from his pocket. He briefly wondered if he should burn it with Castiel. The small charm felt cool against his palm, a reminder of how it had never once burned hot. This sparked the flame of anger that had been building within him.

He stood up, shaking with rage, and raised his fist to the sky. “Are you happy?” he cried. “Is this what you wanted? Michael is burning the planet now, not Lucifer. He’s destroying everything and now Castiel is dead because of him.”

It wasn’t until then that he realized he’d almost been expecting God to show up and fix everything. He’d stupidly thought that He would once again put Castiel back together and give them another shot at winning.

He knew now, more than ever, that God didn’t give a damn about any of them.

“He gave you everything. He rebelled, not just for us but because it’s what he thought you would have wanted. He actually believed that you wanted him to save us. Why would you bring him back if you were just going to let him fail? 

“If you’re not going to do anything for us then at least stop all of this for him.” Sam felt the fire begin to flicker out. “Please don’t make everything he fought for be for nothing.”

He was of course met with nothing but silence.

The sun was just about gone by then. Defeated, Sam tossed the salt, what he was more than aware was probably not needed, over Castiel’s body, followed by the lighter fluid. One match and the pyre and Castiel were engulfed in flames.

Sam felt the world around him drain away as he watched the fire take all that was left of his will to live.


	4. Part Four

Once the fire burned itself down to smoldering embers, Sam got back into the Impala and drove away. Part of him wanted to sink into the ground with Castiel, to just take out his pistol and pull the trigger, but the futility of it made doing it pointless.  
  
So instead he drove. He paid little attention to what direction he drove; he just kept driving, stopping only for gas. That is until he saw the smoke rising over the horizon.  
  
Soon he found himself in Detroit.  
  
After it had taken hours of avoiding the main highways and maneuvering countless back roads that were overcrowded with panicked people, Sam finally found himself on a strip of road that was fairly deserted. It looked like an old industrial park and was still pretty far outside the city proper. Everything looked run down and abandoned.   
  
Sam thought it looked like a more likely hiding place for the Devil than anything that Michael was burning closer to the center of the city.  
  
He felt another surge of anger at the Archangel’s complete disregard for human life. He was no better than Lucifer. In fact, Sam was beginning to think that the great warrior of God was far worse than the Devil.  
  
He picked a spot to park the Impala. Sam knew that this was the closest that he’d be able to get to the city without having to run down any roadblocks. He didn’t bother taking anything out of the trunk; all he had was his pistol and the knife. He knew better than to expect that any amount of fire power would help him win any sort of fight now.   
  
He pried away a loose piece of plywood from the door of the closest building and picked the lock effortlessly, locking it again unconsciously after he had closed it behind him. He didn’t bother with salt lines or demon traps. He didn’t bother with any holy oil or sigils either.  
  
He simply found his way up to the top floor, found himself a chair and waited. It hadn’t taken very long for him to be found.  
  
Michael stood there, smile still plastered to his face regardless of the gun being pointed at it. He stepped forward but stopped when he heard Sam pulled the handle back on his gun. “Really, Sam? Do you think shooting me is going to do anything?”  
  
Sam answered by pulling the trigger. Dean’s head snapped back in a sickening manner and Sam was certain he heard the snapping of bones.   
  
It took Michael several seconds to mend his neck and as he brought his head forward he fixed Sam with the deadliest glare Sam had ever seen grace the contours of Dean’s face.  
  
Sam shrugged and lowered the gun. “No, but it makes me feel better.” He tossed the gun to the side, making the mistake of taking his eyes off the angel.   
  
Michael grabbed him by the neck and Sam felt the world rush around him as Michael flew them across the room and slammed him into the wall. The air was knocked from his lungs as he felt the plaster crack and dig into his back and arms. He watched with a sort of perverse pleasure as the hole in Dean’s forehead began to heal, pushing the bullet out as it did so.   
  
Michael decided to wipe the smile from Sam’s face by nearly crushing his windpipe. “I promised Dean that I would keep you alive,” he said. “But nothing was said about you needing to be whole for me to do it.”  
  
“Why bother?” Sam’s voice came out as more of a hoarse whisper; hardly intimidating. “You don’t really plan on giving Dean back his body do you?”  
  
“Well I certainly don’t plan on having any need of it after all this is over and done with,” Michael said. “Besides, I’ll be looking forward to your reunion with him.” Giving him a knowing smile, Michael let go of Sam’s neck.  
  
Falling to the floor, Sam felt his throat burn as air forced its way down his battered windpipe. Michael ignored his hacking cough though, instead walking back across the room to inspect the still unconscious Meg.  
  
Sam managed to calm his coughing enough to speak. “What do you plan on doing with her?”  
  
“This one is going to tell me where to find my brother,” Michael said, turning to look at Sam. “And you are going to lure him right to me.”  
  
Sam couldn’t help but let out a choked laugh. “So I’m bait now? That’s your idea of keeping me safe?”  
  
“Well I could always keep you locked up in the highest tower of Heaven.” Michael laughed and slowly walked back towards Sam. “Then you could just sit around and wait for Dean to come to your rescue. I could even give him a horse if you’d like.” He stopped. “Oh that’s right. Dean wouldn’t really be your first choice as your knight in shining armor anymore now would he?”  
  
A cry of rage tore its way out of Sam as he pushed himself from the floor and launched himself at Michael. Not the smartest thing for him to do since Michael merely moved out of the way. Sam was able to keep from throwing himself onto the floor, but when he turned Michael was right there.  
  
Lifting his hand, Michael effortlessly threw Sam across the room and with a twist of his wrist, Sam began to feel everything in his chest constrict.   
  
White hot pain seared through his body as he lay on the ground writhing. He couldn’t breathe, and through it all he could hear Michael laughing. He began wishing that the Archangel really would just kill him – for him to just stop toying with him and let him die, contract with Dean be damned.  
  
It wasn’t until Sam swore he could taste blood again when Michael finally stopped. “I wasn’t kidding about you not having to be whole, Sam.”  
  
“Why not just kill me then?” Sam asked. “Why does it matter if I’m actually alive when you get your Paradise? Isn’t being reunited with people in Heaven part of the package?”  
  
“Except you seem to be forgetting that you’re bait now.” Michael smiled. “Hide you away like that and more people are just going to die.”  
  
“So what?” Sam spat. “You don’t care; you’re the one killing them. What the hell kind of angel are you?”  
  
“The kind who will do anything to fulfill his father’s wishes,” Michael said, his smile now gone.  
  
Sam forced himself up, using the wall for support. “Well then you and your Father can just blow me.”  
  
Sam watched as Michael’s lips curled into an angry smile. “Goodnight, Sam.”  
  
The last thing Sam remembered was Michael snapping his fingers and then darkness.   
  
  
  
Once Sam became aware again, he knew immediately that he was dreaming. It wasn’t just the feeling but his impossible surroundings.  
  
He was back in Bobby’s study. It looked as it had before he’d even left with Castiel nearly one month ago. The desk, shelves and every book were still in the same places.   
  
It was almost as if everything after Dean had said _yes_ never happened. In fact, Sam had to resist the urge to go down into the basement to see if he would find Dean still locked up in Bobby’s panic room with Castiel still standing guard.  
  
He looked around the room, taking special care to not let his gaze drift down to look at that one particular spot on the floor. He knew that even if they are not there, he’d still see them – they were burned forever into his memory.  
  
“Sam?”  
  
He turned when he heard that now familiar, and oh so missed, voice.   
  
Castiel was standing in the kitchen doorway and even though Sam knew that it was a dream, and that the angel standing in front of him wasn’t the real thing, he couldn’t help himself. It only took a second for him to cross the room and pull this ghost of his lost angel into an embrace.   
  
Dream-Castiel, in true Castiel fashion, sort of stood there, confused, before he hesitantly lifted his arms and returned the hug. “Um, yes Sam, I am very happy to see you too.”   
  
Sam felt the tears build up and didn’t do a thing to stop them. It was _his_ dream after all.  
  
He found himself almost wishing that the battle over Earth had somehow reached a conclusion and that Heaven, or God, had decided to repay him by bringing his angel back from the beyond. It was a foolish hope, but one he wouldn’t be able to quell.  
  
He drew in a shuddering breath and laughed. “Castiel, you have no idea how happy I am to see you right now.”   
  
“Is that so?”   
  
Sam felt one of Castiel’s hands move up his back to his neck while the other worked its way under his shirt to press into the small of his back, the skin on skin contact sending sparks through his body.  
  
Castiel pulled Sam closer to him, brushing his lips up the hunter’s neck to that he could whisper in his ear, “And just how happy are you to see me, Sam?”  
  
Sam wasn’t sure what it was, but something clicked in his brain, something that told him that, even in a dream, this wasn’t right – this wasn’t Castiel.  
  
He untangled himself from the angel and pushed him away, needing to get some distance between him and this imposter. “Who are you?”  
  
The fake Castiel’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. “You’re getting smarter Sam. Should have known I wouldn’t be able to pull the wool over your eyes – again.”  
  
Realization hit him. “Lucifer?”  
  
“That’s right.” The way he smiled didn’t look right on Castiel’s face. “I thought I’d try giving you a gift. You know, to get in your good graces – but I guess only the real thing is good enough for you.”  
  
Watching the Devil walk around the room looking like Castiel was starting to make Sam angry. “This really isn’t funny.” Sam’s voice sounded almost as tense as he was.  
  
Lucifer sighed. “You know, I suppose you’re right.” He snapped his fingers and suddenly the room changed.  
  
It was still Bobby’s study, only now it looked as it had when Sam last seen it. He quickly glanced at the floor, couldn’t stop himself, and right where he knew they’d be were the burned impressions of Castiel’s wings.   
  
Sam could almost swear he felt his heart crumble in his chest.  
  
“There now, isn’t that better?”  
  
When Sam turned, he saw Lucifer, looking like he usually did within his vessel, leaning against the wall and looking at the wings on the floor.  
  
“Yeah,” Sam said, fuming. “Just perfect.”  
  
Lucifer looked at him with sympathy. Sam wasn’t going to buy it though.  
  
“Sam,” he started. “I know you’re…”  
  
“The answer is no,” Sam said, cutting him off.  
  
Lucifer glared at him, obviously angry that Sam would dare to interrupt him. It was replaced quickly though as the Devil sighed and held up his hands. “You see Sam; I’m sort of in a bind here.”  
  
“Then you might as well save it for someone who cares,” Sam said.  
  
Lucifer, not missing a beat, continued, “But for you, I’m willing to make a deal.”  
  
“Not interested.”   
  
They stared each other down for a moment before Lucifer just started laughing. “How is it that, even after everything that’s happened, you can remain so stubborn.”  
  
“Yeah well, humans are funny like that,” Sam said.  
  
“You don’t actually think you still have a chance of winning do you?” Lucifer asked.   
  
Much to Lucifer’s delight, Sam remained silent.  
  
“Or are you still hoping that God will jump in and put a stop to all of this?” Lucifer held up his hand, letting Dean’s old amulet drop and dangle in front of him. He held it up so that he could look at it. “You know, you’re still holding onto this thing. I can’t possibly think of what it could mean for you now though.”  
  
Lucifer tossed it to him but Sam just let it fall to the floor.  
  
“Ah I see,” Lucifer said, smiling. “I can see that you’re angry Sam. You’re angry with God. You’re angry with Dean. And you’re angry with Michael.”   
  
Lucifer took his first steps towards Sam, who remained right where he was. He didn’t flinch, move or even breathe.   
  
Lucifer began to slowly circle him. “Yes, Michael. You hate him. You want to see Michael dead, more than any other angel – more than me.” Lucifer stopped when he was behind Sam, inches away. Leaning over Sam’s shoulder he said, “I can make that happen Sam. But I need you to do it.”  
  
Sam felt the pull of the Devil’s words – words that only spoke the truth. Squeezing his eyes shut, Sam turned and stepped away from Lucifer. “I don’t care,” he lied. “None of that’s important to me.”  
  
“Okay then,” Lucifer said, his voice loosing that edge of patience. “How about this – and let me say now that this is the only time I’m going to offer you this – when everything is all said and done, and I no longer need your body, I can give you back the one you want most of all.”  
  
Sam’s breath caught in his throat. He opened his eyes to see nothing but seriousness written all over the Devil’s face. The air in his lungs escaped as an almost strangled sob.  
  
He shook his head, trying to shake the words out of it, wishing that he’d never heard them. “There’s no way you can do that.”  
  
“I can do anything, Sam,” Lucifer said. “I can make sure that you’re aware of every detail as I kill my brother Michael. I can make his death quick and easy, or slow and painful so that you can watch every second of his suffering.  
  
“And after I’m done with that, I can lock you away. Give you the most perfect dream you could ever ask for where it’s just you and Castiel. Then, when it’s all over, I can give you the real thing.”  
  
Sam told himself that there was no way Lucifer could do what he was saying, or if he could, there was some sort of twisted catch to it all. But the thought of what he was promising was so tempting that Sam could almost feel the answer already on his lips.  
  
Lucifer must have somehow seen this because he smiled a truly pleased and wicked smile. “You don’t have to answer me right this second,” he said. “I’m very close to you now. I’ll let it sink in a bit.” He lifted his hand again. “See you real soon, Sam.” And with a snap of his fingers he was gone.   
  
  
  
Sam was jolted awake by the sound of battle.   
  
His first coherent thought was that he had no idea where he was, only that one of his wrists were handcuffed to a bed and that it was too dark for him to see. It was after he had established that, when he remembered the dream.   
  
His chest ached, and whether it was from the memories or the abuse he had received from Michael earlier didn’t matter to him. The tears still came anyway.   
  
He sat up on the bed and just started waiting. It was all he could do.  
  
He listened to the battle that raged on; it seemed, all around him. He started to wonder who was winning. He also started to wonder what his answer was going to be. He felt sick just thinking about how much he was starting to really want to say _yes_.   
  
He couldn’t deny it any longer. _Everything_ that the devil had said was the truth – and Sam knew it.   
  
Sam didn’t want Michael to win, even wearing Dean like he was. Did he really want Lucifer to win instead?  
  
His time for thinking was over though as the door to the room he was locked in was thrown open – and there stood Lucifer.   
  
“Hello, Sam,” he smiled and stepped into the room.   
  
Sam felt the handcuff on his wrist break away and he was able to stand up.   
  
Lucifer stopped and stood waiting. “Well, Sam? Do you have an answer for me?”  
  
Everything inside him churned as he stood there, still undecided. Would he be able to live with himself, knowing that he gave into the Devil? Or if he knew that he’d had the chance for eternity with Cas but instead chose to give it up?  
  
Across the hall from the room that they were standing in, Sam could see another doorway, and sitting just inside, where it was almost too dark to see, was Michael – waiting. Lucifer was only a few steps away, and he was just sitting there waiting.  
  
Sam felt the rage inside him flare again. All his talk about promising Dean to keep people safe and there he was _waiting_ for Sam to say _yes_.   
  
Sam squared his shoulders and focused back on Lucifer. He could tell from the look on the Devil’s face that he knew, and he knew just how angry it made Sam. 

Sam felt his nostrils flare as he filled his lungs for, probably, the last time. “ _Yes_ ,” he said and blinding white light was the last thing he saw.

_End_


End file.
